


Red Hot Moon

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Stay,” Stiles says when they reach the lake.  Stripping his shirt off and dropping it on the ground, Stiles sits down and starts fiddling with his laces.  “Joining me in the lake?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You want me to?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Can wolves swim?” Stiles asks, squinting up at Derek.  “There’s a joke about doggy paddling, but I think you might hit me.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Hot Moon

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [In Small Packages](http://insmallpackages.livejournal.com/). Prompt: Derek/Stiles, Summer Heat.
> 
> Title stolen from Rancid.

The day Stiles graduates from high school the weather turns from mild summer to blazing heat all the time. It’s constant, and if Stiles hadn’t already checked with Deaton, he’d think hell had actually come to Beacon Hills. There haven’t been signs of the devil coming to California, haven’t been signs of anything supernatural aside from the ones who already live in town. Still, Stiles keeps the house stocked with weapons; has books he’s borrowed from Deaton spread over his desk; a copy of the Argent’s Bestiary on his computer; follows reports of anything strange happening with a zealotry that he knows he shouldn’t admit.

It’s hard, after everything he’s been through, to let it go. To try and be normal.

Stiles lies on his bed in his underwear and looks up at the ceiling. There’s a slight breeze coming through his cracked window, and there’s not even the sound of sprinklers due to the water restrictions. Scott’s visiting his dad in DC, some kind of bridge building that Stiles isn’t going to kill off for his buddy, despite how much he still thinks Agent McCall is a dick. It’s quiet everywhere, and Stiles is finding himself kind of bored.

*

There’s a beach not far out of town, but the lake in the preserve is closer, and has the bonus of kids not wanting to go in the woods. Stiles finds it hilarious because it’s all myth; the woods are safer than they’ve ever been, especially after the pack dealt with the pixie invasion six months ago. Stiles doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though, and keeps trudging through the woods, sweat running down his spine, his shirt sticking to his skin as insects buzz in the distance.

“What’re you doing here, Stiles?” comes Derek’s voice from beside him, and Stiles doesn’t startle, okay? He doesn’t.

“Is making me jump fun for you?”

“Sorry,” Derek says, falling into step with Stiles. “I thought you heard me.”

Stiles shrugs, glancing over at Derek and stopping on the path. “You’re wearing shorts,” he says before he can stop himself.

“What?” Derek stops and looks down at his clothes before looking back up at Stiles. “I—it’s hot, Stiles, I’m not gonna wear skintight jeans.”

“You admit they’re skintight?” Stiles teases, rubbing the back of his hand over his forehead. “Where are you heading to?”

“The lake.”

“Me too.”

“Alone?”

Stiles starts walking again, a little quicker than before. “Something wrong with that?” Derek’s keeping up with Stiles, his hands in his pockets, and Stiles wishes he could outpace him, but it’s never going to happen.

“No,” Derek says softly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Stiles doesn’t answer immediately, but Derek doesn’t stop walking beside him. It’s not uncomfortable, which Stiles finds strange, but not unwelcome. Derek’s familiar, doesn’t judge Stiles for the quirks he’s developed over the years since the supernatural invaded his life.

“Stay,” Stiles says when they reach the lake. Stripping his shirt off and dropping it on the ground, Stiles sits down and starts fiddling with his laces. “Joining me in the lake?”

“You want me to?”

“Can wolves swim?” Stiles asks, squinting up at Derek. “There’s a joke about doggy paddling, but I think you might hit me.”

“I’m not going to hit you,” Derek huffs, sitting next to Stiles and tugging his sneakers off. “And yes, wolves can swim. I can swim.”

“Last time we were in water together, you didn’t exactly get a chance to prove it,” Stiles says, curling his arms around his knees and looking over at Derek. “Have you been in water since then? Not, like, baths and stuff, but—”

“At the gym,” Derek interrupts. “I swim there.”

“You go to the gym,” Stiles says, a note of disbelief in his voice. “Really?”

“What’s so strange about that?” Derek asks, standing up and peeling his tank top off his body.

Stiles tries not to stares, he really does, but Derek’s chest hair is matted from the heat, his stomach has a thin sheen of sweat over it and—Stiles really has no idea what Derek just asked him.

“Stiles? Why is it strange I go to the gym?”

“Uh, y’know. People. You, being around them.” Stiles gets to his feet and heads towards the lake. He takes a few steps in before heading out further. “You coming in?” Stiles asks, pausing and looking back at Derek. 

“You know,” Derek says, getting into the water and walking out until it reaches his navel. “People in this town don’t hate me anymore.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” he asks before ducking under the water for a moment, coming back up, the water running down his body.

“Mrs. Chase hates everyone,” Derek says defensively, crossing his arms over his bare chest, making his muscles bulge in ways that Stiles wants to lick.

“Mrs. Chase _loves_ me.”

“She thinks you’re a delinquent who acts out because your father is the Sheriff,” Derek says, sinking down in the water and grinning at Stiles.

Stiles gapes at Derek, and resorts to splashing him, the water hitting Derek right in the face.

“Stiles!” Derek rubs his eyes, his hair falling flat on his forehead, diminishing the glare he aims in Stiles’ direction. “Seriously?”

“We’re in the lake, Derek, what did you expect?” Stiles calls with a laugh, turning on his stomach and gliding away. When he’s far enough out, he turns on his back and kicks his legs aimlessly, staring up at the deep blue sky. There’s no clouds up there, and it makes it seem like the world is endless.

“Scott still in DC?” Derek asks, treading water next to Stiles, the motion of his feet creating little ripples underneath Stiles.

“Bonding with douche dad,” Stiles confirms, flipping around until he’s treading water opposite Derek. “It’s been quiet.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“When you’re in my head?” Stiles avoids Derek’s eyes and shrugs. “It’s not a big thing.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“Kind of,” Stiles responds, looking at Derek through his eyelashes. “I can’t tell if it’s the heat or not wanting to dream.”

“Do you—” Derek breaks off and huffs. “Would it help if someone was there?”

“Why, are you offering?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, locking eyes with Stiles. “I’m offering.”

Stiles hums, drags his fingers through the water, watching the patterns float away. “Is this, uh, a friend thing?”

“It can be that,” Derek says evenly, his tone not giving anything away.

“And if I wanted it to be more than that?” Stiles asks, biting his bottom lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood.

“Then it can be more than that.”

Stiles goes quiet, staring over at Derek, watching the way the corners of Derek’s mouth turn up in a small smile. “So,” he says eventually, moving closer to Derek and tentatively sliding a hand over Derek’s wet shoulder. “Does this mean you want to kiss me?”

“Take a wild guess.”

Not taking his eyes off Derek, Stiles leans in and presses a chaste kiss against Derek’s lips, closing his eyes as he rests his hands on Derek’s shoulders. Derek’s hands curl around Stiles’ waist, holding him up, and Stiles sinks into the kiss, trusting Derek to not let him drown.

Pulling away, Stiles rests his forehead against Derek’s and laughs. “That wasn’t what I was expecting to happen today.”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what I expected to happen today.”

“Asshole,” Stiles says, narrowing his eyes at Derek when the expression on Derek’s face doesn’t change. “You—did you? Were you setting out to seduce me?”

“Are you casting yourself as a heroine in a romance novel?”

“Stop changing the subject. Did you—how long?”

Derek shrugs, and Stiles notices the tips of Derek’s ears pinking up. “Longer than I’ll admit to in front of your father. That okay with you?”

“So you decided, what? Now I’m eighteen my dad wouldn’t shoot you for wanting to get in my pants? He likes you, he probably wouldn’t have shot you.”

“You’re his kid,” Derek says, his fingers stroking Stiles’ back. “And it wasn’t about that. The way I was, it wasn’t something I wanted to expose you to if we were going to be—”

“Boyfriends?”

Derek rolls his eyes at him, but nods. “If you want to put it like that. I wanted to be better. Not for you, but for me. I _needed_ to be better.”

“Derek, I—”

“Can we go somewhere that isn’t the middle of the lake?”

“Your apartment has AC,” Stiles says. “We could—”

“Yeah,” Derek says, kissing Stiles quickly. “Okay.”

*

When they get into the apartment, Stiles doesn’t know what to do. He’s been in Derek’s apartment a million times—he even picked out the couch—but never for these reasons, and it’s making him feel awkward.

“Why are you standing by the door?” Derek asks, looking over at Stiles from the entrance to his bedroom.

“I—”

“Want some dry clothes?”

“I guess. I’d prefer to not be wearing any clothes, but—” Stiles cuts himself off when he realises what he’s saying. “That’s not—I didn’t—we don’t have to have sex.”

“Ever?” Derek asks, smirking at Stiles and taking a few steps closer to him. “Or just today?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Derek says, kissing Stiles on the forehead. “Come on, I’ll lend you some boxers,” he says, taking Stiles’ hand.

*

Stiles sits on the end of the bed, watching Derek move around his room. A pair of boxers hits him in the side of the head and he looks over at Derek. “Thanks,” Stiles says, making a face at him.

“Had to get your attention somehow.”

“You’ve always had my attention,” Stiles grumbles as he stands up and begins to undress. “Even when I didn’t want you to have my attention, you had it.” Turning around, Stiles drops his shorts on the floor, quickly grabbing the boxers and pulling them up. Derek makes a noise behind him and Stiles flushes.

“I always had your attention?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, still facing the bed, listening to the rustling of Derek’s clothes as he gets changed. “You didn’t know?”

There’s silence, and then Derek’s hand is on Stiles’ shoulder, turning him around. “I—there was a scent but that wasn’t—you can’t know everything from a scent.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“I could’ve,” Derek says, his hand travelling up to cup Stiles’ face. “That’s my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” Stiles replies, turning into Derek’s touch and kissing the palm of his hand. “C’mon, help me sleep.” Stepping back from Derek, Stiles clambers onto the bed, kicking the blankets down to the end of the mattress and lying down. The AC is whirring, and Stiles waits for Derek to join him.

“It’s the middle of the day,” Derek says as he gets on the bed, laying next to Stiles, resting a hand on Stiles’ stomach.

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” Stiles says quietly, curling into Derek, letting Derek’s hand slide over his back. “Do you?”

“Just here.”

Stiles smiles, tilting his head forward and kissing Derek softly. “Good answer.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://heroderekhale.tumblr.com).


End file.
